


Carnegiea Gigantea (S/U; Scotty/Charlene; TOS; Rated PG)

by Yalegirl03



Series: Constellations [7]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-30
Updated: 2010-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-14 05:46:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yalegirl03/pseuds/Yalegirl03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock attends a Christmas party and takes a turn underneath the mistletoe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carnegiea Gigantea (S/U; Scotty/Charlene; TOS; Rated PG)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Christmas fic exchange for the Spock_Uhura community on LiveJournal. This story fits within my Constellations series of TOS stories and makes heavy references to The First Taste. I suggest you read that story to best understand this one. The title is the scientific name for the sagauro cactus, an extremely slow growing plant native to the Sonoran desert of North America.

Carnegiea Gigantea

 

Spock stood on the periphery of the room, one long fingered hand wrapped around a steaming cup of hot cocoa as he watched his a’duna dance with Captain Kirk. Spock normally avoided social gatherings. Despite being an ambassador’s son, he had little skill for exchanging small talk and pleasantries. Despite living among humans for several decades and being raised by one, he had never fully understood the human necessity for small talk. His grandmother told him that “chewing the fat,” as she had so colorfully put it, was one of those necessary human customs vital to forming new social alliances. To his young mind, this had sounded like a rational explanation, however, as an adult, he had found that his ability to form new social alliances was not impaired¬ by his inability to converse idly on trivial topics with strangers. At least, he had not thought he was so impaired until he had begun his relationship with Nyota Uhura.

Uhura was one of those rare beings endowed with the ability to make friends with anyone. Indeed, since his friendship with her began his social sphere had grown considerably. Where his social interactions had merely included a weekly chess match with Jim, he was now regularly welcomed to Sulu and Chekov’s poker nights, Riley and Kyle’s fantasy basketball league and his own department’s monthly quiz night with Engineering—where his extensive knowledge of science, literature and history was balanced by his virtual ignorance of pop culture. Nyota’s natural warmth and charm had somehow extended to himself. Spock found that he was no longer the mysterious and feared alien, but a valued colleague and friend.

Spock once thought that such a transformation was beyond him and had admitted as much to Jim and Dr. McCoy one night over a card game. The good Doctor had not found the change to be so remarkable.

“That little lady could charm the beard off of a Klingon,” he quipped, much to the Captain’s amusement.

When Spock pointed out the illogic of his statement, McCoy scoffed.

“Well, she managed to charm the pants off a Vulcan, didn’t she?”

Spock did not correct him. Nyota had not charmed him. No. That would be too trite a description of their courtship. When he first spied her as a young cadet, he found her visually pleasing and, yes, charming. However, it was not merely her beauty that drew him to her. Nor was it merely her superior record as a cadet and officer. Uhura was an oasis of calm and warmth in the cold dryness of space. With every passing touch on the bridge, each lyre lesson and shared meal she had grown to become as necessary to him as food, water or air. It was a dependence that had grown as slowly as the saguaro—inch by inch in the dry desert unnoticed until it was a magnificent cactus, its thick arms raised towards the unforgiving sun.

It was approximately this time two years ago—when Spock had finally known the depth of his thirst—when Nomad took her from him. All of her memories of what they had become to one another were wiped clean. While she remained present in body, she was absent in spirit. He felt part of himself wither without her soothing shade. Yet, slowly and surely she returned to him, there attachment stronger than before.

Many of their colleagues thought that they made a strange pair—the stoic Vulcan and the vivacious lieutenant. He heard the whispers of the men who wondered what she saw in him; of the women who pitied she who loved a man who could not love her in return. One night as Uhura lay tucked against his side, she laughingly told him of the bet going on between their departments. The odds were 50 to 1 that their relationship would not last past the end of the mission. Spock had found the news to be less than amusing. Sensing his displeasure through the bond, Uhura pressed a comforting kiss to his chest.

“Baby, what do they know about anything?” Uhura asked, her voice low. “They could not possibly understand what we have together. Besides, I could care less about what they thought.”

Spock smoothed his free hand down her nude back. “You do not regret our decision to keep the news of our bond from the crew?

Uhura was quiet for a moment as she processed her thoughts.

“I admit it would be nice to have a small ceremony here on board,” she began as she moved to lie atop him, her left hand idly stroking the tip of his right ear as she spoke. “This ship has so many memories and all of our friends are here. But, I am more than content to wait until the end of our mission to make it official. I know how important it is for you to have T’Pau cement our bond on your ancestral lands.”

Spock thought that he sensed a hint of melancholy behind her words but he soon found himself unable to focus as Nyota began to stroke his left ear as well.

His wife’s laughter drew his attention once again to the dance floor filled with his smiling and gyrating colleagues. Nyota laughed gaily as Jim twirled her about the dance floor, sending her skirts spinning around her long legs. Spock spied a hint of red lace panties before her spinning stopped and her skirts resumed their more modest resting position against her thighs. Spock arched one brow and sent his wife an image of himself removing those undergarments when they returned to his quarters. Nyota jerked her head in his direction and winked at him before the Captain demanded her attention once again. Spock allowed a small grin to quirk his lips as he took a sip of his hot cocoa. Spock still found himself amazed that such a creature loved him and that he was more than capable of loving her in return.

 

“Why I thought I’d never see the day,” Doctor McCoy drawled as he sidled up next to Spock.

Spock kept his eyes fixed on his wife as he replied. “To what are you referring Doctor?”

“Well, when this overgrown jack rabbit would turn into a regular Christmas elf.”

Spock rolled his eyes for McCoy’s amusement. “ I assure you, I have not transformed into an elf or any other mythological creature.”

“Well, aren’t you practically brimming with Christmas fervor,” McCoy replied. He followed Spock’s gaze to see Chekov cutting in on Jim’s dance with Uhura.

“When do you plan to make an honest woman outta her?”

“An honest woman?” Spock queried as he turned towards his friend. “Do you have cause to doubt Ms. Uhura’s honesty?”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. I don’t know why you two don’t just get hitched already. She’s good for you, Spock. Heck, you two are good for each other. Somehow you two kids just work. I can’t for the life of me figure out how, but you do.”

Spock arched one brow. “Was that a compliment, Doctor?”

McCoy snorted. “Well, I still don’t know what she sees in you. Its gotta be like making love to an iceberg.”

“To the contrary, Doctor, although Vulcan’s have a lower internal temperature than Terrans, Nyota assures me that I expel sufficient heat to satisfy her.”

McCoy paused, his eyes wide, before letting out a bark of laughter.

Spock hid a satisfied smirk behind his raised mug of cocoa. He looked to the corner of the room and saw that the spot beneath the mistletoe was clear for the first time that evening.

“If you would excuse me, Doctor.”

Spock handed McCoy his mug and made his way through the throng of dancing crewmen to position himself under the mistletoe. He assumed his normal stance of parade rest: his shoulders back, his hands clasped behind him and his head held high. A few crewmen paused in their conversations and rhythmic gyrations to stare at their commander. Spock studiously ignored them all, choosing to lock his eyes on the petite form of his a’duna.

*~*~**~*~*~*~*

“Ny,” Charlene said as she tapped Uhura on the shoulder. “You’ve got to see this.”

Uhura turned away from Lt. Riddle to face her friend. “See what, Charlene?”

“Spock is standing underneath the mistletoe.”

“What!” Uhura turned her head towards the entrance to the party where the mistletoe was been raised high. There beneath it stood her serious Vulcan.

“My goodness, what can he mean by standing there?”

“I think he is waiting for a kiss, Ny,” Charlene replied with a roll of her eyes.

Nyota slapped her friend on the rump. “I figured as much, wise ass. It’s just that he doesn’t need some mistletoe to get some sugar. “

“Well, that may be the case, but I think you should hurry over and give the man what he wants.”

Scotty approached the pair, his face flushed with holiday mirth and a little scotch.

“Aye, I’d do what she says, lass,” he added as he wrapped his arms around Charlene’s waist from behind and began to sway his hips to the music. “I saw Christine wobbling her way over from the snack table. She was a wee bit fond of my special Yuletide punch, if you get my meaning.”

“Look who’s talking,” Charlene giggled as Scotty began to nuzzle her neck.

“Oh, mercy,” Uhura sighed. “Christine is drunk off her ass. She’ll just embarrass herself.”

“We’ll distract Christine,” Charlene said as she grabbed Scotty’s hands from her hips and began to lead him out onto the dance floor. “You go kiss that fine Vulcan of yours.”

Uhura laughed before making her way over towards the mistletoe. She arrived just as a wide-eyed ensign stepped towards Spock, her cheeks aflame. A few feet away stood a gaggle of her giggling friends who no doubt dared her to kiss the Vulcan. Uhura stepped into the ensign’s path. She crossed her arms and gave the young woman her patented “Look of Death.” The ensign squeaked before turning to rejoin her friends.

“Your intervention was unnecessary, Ms. Uhura,” Spock stated as Uhura turned to face him. “I was capable of handling the situation with Ensign Ortiz myself.”

Uhura stared at him incredulously before she caught a hint of Spock’s amusement over their bond.

“I don’t doubt your ability to handle your own affairs, Mr. Spock,” she replied, playing along. “But her behavior was inappropriate.”

“On the contrary, Ms. Uhura. We are in attendance at a Christmas party and I am currently located in close vicinity to the mistletoe. As are you, Ms. Uhura.”

“I am aware, Mr. Spock,” Uhura replied unable to keep the broad smile off of her face.

“Then it is advisable for you to kiss me with all due haste.”

“As you wish, Spock,” Uhura finished before holding out two fingers of her right hand to her husband.

Spock looked down at the outstretched fingers with a raised brow before bringing the fingers of his left hand to meet hers. Uhura’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation. She was so caught up in his mental kiss that she was caught off guard when Spock pulled her against his body.

“Spock!”

“While this is quite pleasing, I believe that the correct response was for you to kiss me in the human fashion.”

Uhura ducked her head. “But we’re in public, Spock.”

“That was not an impediment two years ago, Nyota. I fail to see how it is relevant now that we are married and that most of the crew is aware that we are romantically attached.”

“True,” Uhura sighed.

Spock’s gaze flicked from her eyes to her lips. “I also find that I very much wish for the crew to bear witness to my affection for you.”

Uhura’s eyes grew wide. “What are you saying?”

“I do not wish to keep our bonding secret any longer. I wish for a Terran wedding ceremony to be performed on board with our friends and colleagues in attendance.”

Uhura smiled broadly, her eyes misting as she sent Spock a wave of her happiness.

“Then you better kiss me quick, Mr. Spock.”

“Indeed.

~fin~


End file.
